Charlotte
by adifferenttateofmind
Summary: He had captured her, and she had captured him. Life is perfect. Until one last act of insanity changes them forever.
1. Chapter 1

_Bang. Bang._

Gunshots.

Charlotte Winters stiffened, her muscles tensing as heavy footsteps passed by. She held her breath until her head began to swim, then took a deep breath and started again. Her hiding place, a small nook directly under the librarian's desk, gave no view of the events happening around her, but the smallest sound would be burned into her memory forever.

"Do you believe in God?"

It was a boy's voice, rich and cracked. That much was obvious.

"Yes."

That was a girl. Her voice came out as no more than a squeak, sending shivers up and down Charlotte's spine.

_Bang._

Then she was gone. Her body thudded against the linoleum.

"No, no. Please, no!"

Another boy's voice. A familiar boy. Kevin Gedman. Pleading.

_Bang._

And then he was gone too. No thud, but Charlotte could easily imagine the blood steadily trickling out of his wound.

A choked laugh caught in Charlotte's throat. Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth, terrified. She wasn't like them. She would never be like them. He had promised he would keep her safe. Away from them.

_Bang._

Whimpering.

The shots were getting closer now. Charlotte kept her hands clamped over her mouth and closed her eyes, trying to forget the bubble of laughter that was straining to escape her throat. She was shaking now.

_Bang._

_Bang._

Silence.

Charlotte slowly allowed her eyes to open and peeled her hands away from her mouth. Sirens were piercing in the distance, but everything sounded distant, muffled. Someone was whistling a tune too light for the occasion. She stood up on wobbly legs and locked eyes with the killer.

Five corpses, one teacher bleeding out.

And all she could do was stare at him.

"Tate _goddamn_ Langdon."

The laughter forced its way out of her throat as she flung herself into his embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck. The shotgun fell from his hands as he instinctively placed his hands on her lower back, shooting her a crooked grin.

"Charlotte Winters, I applaud your acting skills," Tate laughed, pressing his forehead to hers.

Before she could reply, Tate pushed his lips against hers, sending a rush of heat from her stomach to her toes. Together, the ignored the corpses of their fellow students and ignored the approaching sirens. Melting together. Becoming one person. Only when the teacher started screaming through his haze did they back away with sly grins.

"You are a goddamn genius!" Charlotte whooped through her smile as Tate grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the school. "I love you!"

* * *

**A/N: Hey there people. Sorry this is still such a short chapter, even though I rewrote it, but I needed to set the tone for the story.**

**If you guys have any questions, please feel free to PM me or ask in the reviews!**

**This is set right after the school shooting and is Tate/OC. I promise it gets better.**

**I'm working on rewriting the next chapter now! Leave a review and favorite!**


	2. Chapter 2

Tate sat at the edge of his bed, shirtless and left in just his traditional holey jeans. Charlotte sat on her knees behind him, her arms looped around his neck, wearing his discarded Nirvana shirt as she left a trail of kisses from his neck, along his jaw line.

"The world is a filthy place."

Tate's voice was cold and sudden. It had been an hour of silence since they had left the school, broken by nothing more than the occasional muttered curses and muffled 'I love you's. Other then that, their lips had never left the other. It had been an hour of complete, utter bliss.

"How so?" Charlotte asked as she gently pulled Tate onto his back, resting his head in her lap. She placed a light kiss on his forehead, her burgundy hair falling like a curtain on either side of his face. He closed his eyes and folded his hand over his chest, resembling a copse in a coffin.

"I don't know," Tate looked up to meet Charlotte's pale eyes with his dark ones and gave her a small, sad smile. He looked, to put it gentle, scared. "There's just so much pain, y'know? It's a filthy, goddamn horror show."

Charlotte grabbed Tate's left wrist and silently ran her thumb over the narrow scars that were etched there.

"I love you, Tate." Charlotte whispered, focused on the criss-crossing scars.

"I love you, Char." Tate whispered back, using Charlotte's grip on his wrist to pull her down into a kiss.

"Promise me you'll stop," Charlotte mumbled into his lips, never breaking the kiss. She ran her thumb over the scars again.

Tate pushed himself up, sitting on his knees in front of Charlotte. He cupped her chin in his hands and stared into her eyes.

"I promise."

He slid his fingers over hers, lacing their hands together.

_He's killed people with those hands, and you know it. They've been covered in blood, and now you're holding them like everything will be okay. Nothing will be okay. So close to you. Such an easy target. Such a naïve little girl._

Charlotte threw Tate's hands down, covering her ears as the voices rattled through her mind, all in different pitches, but all at the same time. It only happened when she was in the house, and only when she was with Tate.

"Tell it to go away, Char." Tate wrapped his arms around Charlotte's heaving shoulders and pressed his lips to her hair. "It'll go away, I promise. Just close your eyes and remember everything is going to be okay. Remember, I love you. Forever always."

"Go away!" Charlotte shrieked, trying to relax in Tate's arms. But the voices just became louder and angrier. They took a tighter hold on her. They were shouting. Telling her to get out. To leave. To forget. Now.

_Bang._

A gunshot in her head, and the voices were gone. Charlotte's eyes went wide as her body seized up. She clawed at Tate's bare chest, and he winced as he pulled her towards him.

"Charlotte! Char, they're gone, I promised you they would leave. Baby, please, they're gone now."

Tate pulled Charlotte to his chest and began sobbing, shaking all over. His grip around her shoulders tightened until her body relaxed into his. He put his forehead to hers, leaving them only inches apart.

"Tate…"

Charlotte grabbed the back of Tate's neck and pulled him towards her, closing the gap between them with a passionate kiss. They collapsed backwards onto the bed, molding into each other. Becoming one. Always Tate and Charlotte. Charlotte and Tate.

"I'm not normal, you know." Tate muttered into the kiss.

"I know," Charlotte replied, her lips never moving from his.

"I'm dangerous you know."

"_And I don't care,_" she moaned, pulling him closer.

* * *

"You're the only light I've ever known, Charlotte."

The ceiling fan circled lazily over their heads, blowing cool air gently onto their entangled, naked bodies. Tate had his arms crossed behind his head, staring as the fan rotated around and around, never going anywhere. Staring at nothing. Staring at everything.

Charlotte propped herself up to rest her chin on his pale chest, waiting for him to finish.

"If you love somebody, you should never hurt them. Never. And I don't want to hurt you, char. But I've done horrible things. I'm afraid of myself. I've cheated. I've killed." He was sobbing now, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes as his fingers clawed into his forehead. "I've sinned, I've hated. Charlotte, you know it as well as I do, and I can't do this to you. I don't want to hurt you next."

Tate met Charlotte's eyes, his wide and flashing with anger. He pulled her up higher on his chest and closed his eyes, letting his head flop back against the pillow in defeat, still shuddering violently from the sobs. Charlotte placed her palms flat on his chest and gently kissed his neck.

"Tate Langdon," Charlotte spoke through her kisses. "I love you, and I'll always love you, no matter what we have to go through together. And nothing you ever do will hurt me."

"Never leave me, Char." Tate groaned and wrapped his arms protectively around her lower back, who closed her eyes peacefully. "I'm nothing without you."

"Never."

_Bang._

Tate and Charlotte shot up, his arms still wrapped around her bare waist. It wasn't a gun this time, but a car door slamming shut. Tate's eyes widened with realization.

"Goddamn, shit!" Tate jumped out of the bed, pulling on his boxers and jeans in record time. More car doors were being slammed shut outside of the house as ate rushed to the window. He peered out and, as if it confirmed his suspicions, cursed again.

"Charlotte, listen to me." He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, pulling her out of the bed and against him. "Get clothes on, get in the closet. Do not come out until it's safe, do you understand me?" He looked down into her pale eyes. "Do not open your eyes."

Charlotte nodded, almost frozen with fear. She scooped up Tate's neglected Nirvana shirt and her grey leggings, stumbled into the closet and, pulling them on carelessly, her eyes locked on Tate as he paced the room angrily.

"Shit!" Tate punched the wall and ran his fingers wildly through his hair. He began attempting to remove any evidence of Charlotte from the room. He threw the comforter back on his bed and slammed his fist into the pillows.

"Close your eyes and remember we're going to be okay," Tate growled to Charlotte through clenched teeth. He gave Charlotte a rough kiss and slammed the closet door, causing it to jump back a crack, leaving a small space for Charlotte to look through.

Cursing under his breath, Tate pulled on a blue long-sleeved jumper and sat down on his bed. From her vantage point in the closet, Charlotte could see him shove his palms into his eyes and compose a cocky expression on his tear-stained face.

_Bang._

* * *

Charlotte kept her eyes closed much longer then she needed to, but she didn't want to see anything that had happened, let alone remember what had just happened. If she kept her eyes closed, everything would be okay.

Silent tears stained her cheeks, brushed away mechanically, as she opened her eyes. The house seemed quieter, the silence so thick that the walls seemed to be screaming and the pressure was pushing her in to the ground. A weight was settling in the room, and the smell of burning metal lingered in the air.

Tate was gone.

Gone.

It seemed as if time had actually stopped, but the howling sobs from downstairs and the door slamming shut broke through the shock. She crawled out of the closet and collapsed on her boyfriend's bed.

Her _dead_ boyfriend's bed.

Charlotte opened her mouth and screamed. Tears started to flow again, but she didn't care. The sobbing downstairs stopped, but she didn't notice. Charlotte screamed at something. Charlotte screamed at everything. Charlotte screamed for Tate.

Tate, who had held her when her brother was diagnosed with bone cancer.

Tate, who had rescued her from every disastrous moment.

Tate, who she had given everything to.

Tate, who had promised to never leave.

"_Never leave me, Char. I'm nothing without you."_

Charlotte wailed until everything went black.

* * *

When she found control over herself again, she found herself in the basement, holding a razor from Tate's stash, which was now scattered on the floor next to her.

She couldn't even recognize herself. The voices were muffled and loud, blending together into a harsh screech that overtook her emotions again. All she could truly comprehend was Tate, nodding her ahead as the voices continued their god-awful screeching.

_Do it._

The voices broke through once, then continued their screeching. Charlotte sliced the razor into her wrist, her face contouring with pain, but she couldn't find any power to scream with. She never stopped, and the pain eventually subsided into a dull throbbing as she traced the letters into her arm.

T

A

I

N

T

Over and over, deeper and deeper. Blood was spraying against Tate's Nirvana shirt and pooled through the hem of her leggings. Her vision went fuzzy, and she gave herself in as her arms continued cutting, her mind void of any action. It was like watching an old movie.

"You said you would never leave me!" Charlotte screamed at herself, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and dropping to her knees.

A feeling that could only be explained as longing wrapped itself around her waist and she dropped the razor, sinking into the cold, numb feeling of death.

* * *

**A/N: Hey there again people. Much longer, well-deserved, finally updated chapter. **

**Sorry for any OOC-ness, but I do hope it gives you a better insight to Charlotte and Tate's relationship.**

**Next chapters will be entering ghost.**

**Drop a review or PM me for anything and everything. Much obliged.**


	3. Chapter 3

Charlotte was nowhere for a long time.

She felt as if a train had derailed in her brain. Nothing could get through to her. She tried to grab at any memory, something that would help to keep her sanity, but all she could reach were wisps that melted through her fingers. She sat in the darkness as time flickered past, trying to focus on the single word her heart beat out.

_Tate._

The word left a strange mixture of sorrow tinged with overwhelming lust behind. The memory of bitter winter wind, warm embraces, and burning metal licked at the edges of Charlotte's subconscious, none of them managing to seep through. The name had a familiar ring to it, but a hollowness rang through her chest and brought tears to her eyes. Charlotte couldn't muster up a single image of the thing that was keeping her alive.

Nowhere was dark. Images would flash around, faceless images that made her wonder what was real and what was not.

_A women crying as a black car pulled away._

_A boy collapsed on a park bench._

_A blonde laying in bed shirtless, jamming his palms into his eyes._

The blonde boy appeared often.

That, mixed with the lack of oxygen and the feeling of being crushed, gave a sense of constant panic to Charlotte. Her left arm was beginning to sting and her vision was going hazy around the edges. The images began to wobble as the oxygen stopped filtering in.

A white light surged in the darkness, as if someone had flicked a light switch, blurring the images into near nothing and blinding Charlotte. This light was anything but peaceful and beckoning. It offered a safe haven, but took prisoner those who entered. Those who were weak-willed and easily hurt. Those who sought comfort when all was lost.

Those like Charlotte.

The last thing she saw before the light overtook her was a beautifully faded blonde woman, waiting for her with open arms.

* * *

**A/N: Total apologies to all of those who have been waiting for a Charlotte update, and for making this such a short, filler chapter.**

**With rehearsals, school, and testing, plus a lack of creativity, I had nothing to write.**

**Next chapter will be up as soon as humanly possible, I swear on Netflix.**

**Leave reviews and don't be afraid to PM me. I want and CRAVE feedback from you guys. What do you think of the plot-twist? Imma stick with it, be a little different.**


	4. Chapter 4

All at once, Charlotte would breathe again.

It was like resurfacing after being held underwater for too long. She felt weightless and heavy, all at the same time, like a balloon full of air sinking to the ocean's floor. Her eyelids were too heavy to the point where it was almost impossible to fully open them. Through her semi-conscious haze she could comprehend voices floating back and forth. One as soft and delicate as paper, the other slurred and rough. Father away, a constant sobbing pierced the air.

"Charles, you know how much I despise it when you leave your patients lying out after their procedure."

"For God's sake, Nora, I'm working! What girl?"

"Working? I wish. Oh, and in a pool of her own blood too. For shame, Charles, for shame. How can you even call yourself a man, I'll never understand it."

Cold, soft hands brushed Charlotte's hair gently behind her ears. She felt her head move slowly from one side to the other, the fingers squeezing at the apples of her cheeks.

"If only mother could see me now," the soft voice started again, much closer to Charlotte's than before, almost as if they were trying to break through the haze that was holding her under. "Scrubbing the blood of a pretty young starlet off of my own floor while my waste of a husband lets his talent slip right through his fingers. Almost as if-"

"Who's this girl? I've never seen her. If she didn't pay, Nora, if you've let one slip by again-"

In an instant, the fingers were gone from Charlotte's cheeks.

"Damn it, Charles. Go back to wasting your talent."

"It's not a waste! You've seen what I've done, what I did to Thaddeus-"

"What you did was create a monster out of my son."

"I brought him back to life for you!"

"Are you deaf, Charles? You created a monster!"

"Please…stop fighting?"

Speaking felt as if someone was rubbing a dull knife up and down her throat, but Charlotte somehow managed to swallow the pain. With the remainder of her strength, she opened her eyes.

Peering down at her, perplexed and almost a little scared, was a couple. A woman, whom Charlotte could gather from the fighting was named Nora, held a scalpel covered in brown blood to the throat of a man, whom was probably named Charles. They were both dressed tastefully, almost a little bit outdated, and looked to be somehow faded. Their hair, their skin, their eyes all seemed to be a few shades duller than what they had been originally, like an antique photo album come to life.

"Where am…I?" Charlotte splayed her fingers out as she felt her energy slowing seeping back into her. The ground beneath her was cold and hard and, on second glance, appeared to be covered in a black, nearly dried, blood. She was almost completely covered in a fine layer of blood, caking her clothes to her skin and matting down her hair. "What…happened?"

The scalpel dropped from the woman's hand, snapping into two pieces on impact. Her face was a frozen jack-o-lantern: eyes wide and glowing, and her mouth a gaping hole. After a few moment's hesitation, she strode to Charlotte and held her down before the girl even had a chance to consider sitting up. She studied Charlotte's bloodied face with the intent gaze of a miser counting his money.

"Oh my," the woman, Nora, whispered as she kneeled down in the blood next to Charlotte, "You've been through hell and back again, haven't you?" She gently put the back of her hand against Charlotte's forehead and gave her a soft smile. "You're surprisingly pretty when you're sleeping. I didn't even realize it was you, Charlotte."

"How do…you know my…name?"

Charlotte tried to sit up for real this time, but her weak state caused her to topple back the few feet she had lifted.

"No honey, just lay down. I'll get you some water to ease your throat."

Nora stood up in a surprisingly graceful movement and turned away from Charlotte to face her husband, who had gotten over the initial shock of his wife trying to kill him and was breathing deeply into a padded mask near his lab station.

"Charles!" Her shrill voice made him drop the padded mask, which he had just started to reach for again with a shaky hand when she started speaking again. "For once, be an actual man and get the poor girl a glass of cool water."

"I'm fine…really." Charlotte insisted, watching half-heartedly as Charles trudged away, his hands still shaking slightly. She managed to push herself up to lean back on her elbows. A sting of pain shot down her arms, but she ignored it and managed to maintain enough energy to stay up.

"Oh no, honey," Nora clicked her tongue at Charlotte. "Lets get you some nice, clean clothes and maybe a shower to get that blood off of you, hmmm? I'll inform Moria to bring your boy down."

"What boy?"

"Moria! Moria, bring the child down, won't you? Tell him she's finally awake."

"Nora. What boy?"

Nora giggled, smoothing down her already perfect chignon. "What boy? Oh, Charlotte, you can't fool me. You really are a card, you know _exactly_ what boy I'm talking about."

Charlotte could only reply with a blank stare and soon, Nora realized her major mistake. She gasped and slowly brought her hands up to cover her mouth.

"You're…you're telling the truth now, aren't you? You have no idea who he is. Or who I am. Or even where you are and what happened to you, do you?"

"Charlotte! Charlotte, are you down there? Moria, no, I will not wait. Charlotte!"

"Who's that?" Charlotte was panicking now, her eyes wide with fear. Her arms were stinging even more now and, with everything going on a once, her head was beginning to swim. She could feel the beginnings of the darkness lapping at the edges of her consciousness, and it took almost all of her energy to stay alert.

"Charlotte! Answer me! Baby? Charlotte?"

A sharp dagger of pain jolted through Charlotte's entire body. Her elbows buckled from underneath her and she dropped, her head smacking against the hard concrete floor. Almost instantly, she could feel herself drifting off into the nothingness.

"Tate! Hurry and grab her before we lose her again!"

_Tate._

A wave of relief she couldn't understand washed over her as two rough hands scooped her up, bridal style. She could feel herself slipping farther under as her body jolted with every step the figure took. Someone was sobbing nearby. The hands tightened their grip on her and she was pulled closer to a solid, heavy chest.

"Don't leave me, Charlotte! You promised you'd never leave me!"

_Bang._

* * *

**I deeply apologize for not updating in almost five months.**

**Don't hurt me.**

**But, to make it up, here's a chapter with the following chapter already in production.**

**Leave reviews and don't be afraid to PM me. I want and CRAVE feedback from you guys. What do you think of the plot-twist?**


	5. Chapter 5

When the darkness faded, Charlotte was in bed.

She instinctively threw a pale arm over her face to block out the harsh afternoon sun and rolled over, blinking until her vision was clear. She remained still, waiting to be greeted by the traditional morning sounds of a busy family of four, but the silence stayed put. It hung dense in the still air, but Charlotte simply shrugged it off as merely an empty house. Her body felt heavy, as if she had been asleep for days, but in all honesty, it was the best she had been in a long time.

"It was all just a dream," she sighed, letting out a breathy laugh as she curled her knees to her chest. She rubbed her hands up and down her bare legs, relishing in the realness of the goosebumps that sprung up as she tried to wrap her mind around what had happened. The last thing she remembered was being picked up and carried away, a continuous sobbing always in her ear. And then _poof_, nothing. The rest was static. "Just a bad, bad dream."

She stretched her arms above her head, already knowing how much of a mess she was. She could practically hear her mother fussing over how the bags under her eyes didn't help the pastiness of her skin, her father trying not to laugh at the gravity-defying bedhead. She padded into the bathroom, shivering from the cold wooden floor on her bare feet.

Bright, white lights flickered on as she shut the bathroom door, highlighting every aspect of her reflection. Charlotte felt her body tense up in anticipation for the gory sight, but everything she had dreamed was gone: the dried blood that had matted down every inch of her body, the pain fluctuating everywhere. Gone. Her hair was damp, as if it had been freshly washed; and her skin was rubbed raw. An oversized navy t-shirt she didn't remember owning left her legs bare, but that seemed to be the least of her problems.

A word was etched into her left arm, a puckered white scar that hadn't been there when she had last gone to sleep. She traced it faintly with the very tips of her fingers, perplexed as shivers rippled up and down her spine.

T

A

I

N

T

Images flooded her memory like an electric shock, grainy bits of information she couldn't fully hold onto. A faded woman beckoning. Blood dripping. Razor blades spilling. A blonde boy collapsing. The lingering smell of burning metal. A rough kiss and screaming. Lots of screaming.

_Bang_.

Charlotte lurched forward, her stomach twisting into vicious knots. She felt dizzy, the sudden rush of memories like a stab in the gut. She tried grabbing onto the counter with clammy hands, knocking toiletries to the floor as her vision swirled between shades of black and grey. Slowly, without letting the wave of black overcome her, she slid to the cold floor.

Streams of tears mingled with snot drenched Charlotte's face as she curled into a ball on the bathroom floor. Nothing felt right, nothing felt normal, nothing felt real. She didn't know what was happening or where she was. Everything felt like a dream, but the memories and scars were too fresh, too realistic. Through her sobs, Charlotte didn't hear the door slam below.

"Constance, where the hell is my daughter?"

"May, sugar, if I had heard anything, cross my heart, you'd be the first to know."

"Don't give me any of your 'Southern Belle' bullshit, where the fuck is my daughter!? Where is Charlotte?"

"I swear, May-"

"Where the fuck is Tate? Charlotte doesn't leave without warning, it's been four days. I've called the school, my parents, any place she would have gone, and no one has seen her since the shooting. It's your goddamned son's fault my baby girl's gone!"

"Don't you dare talk about my son like that!"

"Go suck another man's dick, bitch."

Footsteps thundered up the staircase and, without any warning, the bathroom door slammed open, cracking the plaster behind the door. There stood May Winters, looking as put together as a mother whose daughter has been missing for four days could, almost a little too put together. She let out a relieved sob and fell to her knees, pulling her daughter tightly to her chest. Charlotte's sob came harder and faster as her mother's grip started to cut off her air.

"Where the hell have you been?" May muttered through her fading sobs. She released Charlotte from her iron tight grip and held her at arms length, searching her pale eyes for some sign of explanation.

"I-I don't know." Charlotte answered honestly, her memory still fuzzy. But her stomach still twisted with guilt, and she found it hard to meet her mother's steely gaze. "Here, I guess."

Her mother's eyes flared with rage. "Here?!" Venom laced her sharp tone as she pulled Charlotte to her feet. "There was a shooting at the school, Charlotte! Are you that thick-headed? Five students are dead, one person is paralyzed. And then you never called us, or even bother to come home, so what were we supposed to think?" She tightened her hold on her daughter's wrist and twisted, pulling Charlotte closer. "Tate killed them."

_Tate_.

Her heart beat sped up.

"Charlotte, you need to tell me what's going on. With you. And Tate."

_Tate_.

Her stomach swooped.

"He killed people, Charlotte. I don't want you around someone as evil as Tate."

_Tate_.

And she didn't know why.

"Charlotte, are you even listening to me? What is going on with you and fucking Tate?"

"I don't know!" She felt herself burst, pulling her wrist from her mother's grip. May's eyes widened and she brought her hand up, palm flat and ready to strike. Charlotte shrunk back and lowered her eyes, gritting her teeth for the blow. "I don't know."

May huffed and grabbed her daughter's wrist again, twisting it even harder this time as she pulled her out of the bathroom and down the hall. She continued to complain, her venom-laced voice becoming an annoying buzz in the back of Charlotte's mind. Things seemed to be moving in slow motion now.

An old maid stood at the end of the hall, a duster in one hand. Her eyes, though intensely blue, looked almost dead in their sockets.

A woman with coiffed blonde hair stood at the bottom of the staircase, shaking her head as May passed by. Behind her, a raven-haired girl grinned as Charlotte passed by, a bright yellow headband holding back her hair from her round face. The woman ground out her lit cigarette on the banister before taking the girl by the forearm and pulling her away.

A familiar couple stood on either side of the front door, the man huffing into a padded mask with shaking hands. On the other side, a faded woman reached out a hand and smiled lovingly, her eyes still sad and hazy.

Outside, a beautiful woman with curled jet black hair smiled, white lines on either side of her mouth glowing slightly in the afternoon sun. She twirled the white flower that was tucked behind her ear and turned her pale face to the sky.

Twins stood in the lawn, a bat in one's hand and snaps in the other's. Smirk's plastered their faces as they nudged each other's shoulders.

When May finally reached the front gate, time started to speed up again. Charlotte felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She whipped her head back as May started to tug her forward. In the attic window was a face, with dark eyes and tousled blonde hair. Charlotte felt her heart pick up as the boy pressed his palm flat against the window.

Then, the gate slammed shut.

And Charlotte was back inside.

_Bang_.

Charlotte dropped to her knees in the middle of the room, her hands gripping either side of her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Every person she had seen was gone: the blonde woman, the girl, the couple. All just gone, disappeared into the air as if they had never been there. Everything was silent except for her ragged breathing. Charlotte wrapped her arms around her self and still felt trapped.

"Charlotte?"

It was a boy's voice, rich and cracked. That much was obvious.

"Baby?"

Slow, steady footsteps started up, floorboards creaking underfoot as the boy got closer and closer. Charlotte stood, opening her eyes and never once turning around, her arms still firmly around herself.

"It's me."

The footsteps stopped. Charlotte became hyper-aware of everything happening around her as the boy's warm breath brushed the fine hairs on the back of her neck. A cold hand gently touched her scarred arm, sending her stomach reeling and her heart fluttering. His mouth brushed past her ear.

"Tate."

_Bang_.

* * *

**Hey, hey, look who's back.**

**Again, it's been five months since I last updated.**

**Oops?**

**But, I'm very proud of this chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy all of the references and the look into Charlotte's mind.**

**Leave reviews and please PM me for anything. I take story suggestions as well for future chapters. **

**Remember, I crave feedback. Like a snack.**

**Also, February 19th is _Charlotte_'s one-year anniversary! Celebrate by sending a review or PM-ing me. Some character art would be cool! Just do whatever! Enjoy!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Be warned, this is a back story chapter! **

**None of Charlotte's memories have returned, just a look into their relationship.**

* * *

He was nearly late to school. That was the first thing Charlotte noticed about him. He would run into first period, his practically empty bag smacking into chairs as he rushed, head down, to his seat at the far side of the room.

First period was Algebra, an ungodly subject for seven in the morning. Maybe it made sense to almost be late, to get distracted while milking out just a few more second of freedom before having to march straight into hell. But he was nearly late _every_ day. That was what held her attention.

* * *

She had an eerie beauty. Everything about her was light, from her pale skin to the pale shade of her eyes. But her hair was a fiery shade of burgundy, like a sunset flowing down her back. She would chew the ends when she was deep in thought. He loved all the little things about her.

He loved her, from the second he laid eyes on her. He didn't even know her name, but she made him feel different. If he could have her notice him, she wouldn't just be a fancy fuck like the other girls. She made him feel like doing all the sappy things a relationship called for. Everything he would never do, he would do for this girl.

* * *

"I like birds too."

Charlotte jumped and looked up, locking eyes with the boy from first period. He was leaning against the row of lockers in front of her, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What?"

The boy gave Charlotte a half-smile and tapped the folder she was carrying, a silhouette of birds in flight on the front. His fingers were long and pale, like a skeleton's.

"Birds. I like them too." He chuckled a bit, running his hand through his golden hair. "Because they can fly away when things get too crazy."

Charlotte couldn't help but be taken by surprise. This boy, who never held any attention to someone, who had an iron grip on her thoughts everyday, was talking about birds like they were discussing last night's homework. UP close, he looked like a rouge prince. His looks were golden boy perfect, but something was different about him, something that drew Charlotte even closer.

"I like them because they're not tied down to anything." Charlotte took a step forward and replied with a half-smile of her own. "When they want to leave, they just have to spread their wings and go."

The two shared a smile, one that lasted just a few seconds too long. An unfamiliar tingle ran through their spines, like tiny butterflies taking flight. With an uncomfortable giggle from her, they both turned away.

Through their unusual haze, the warning bell rang, bringing both teens back to the present moment.

The boy shifted his weight and composed a cool expression on his face. Being so close to her made him nervous. It was like she could see into his stained soul, and he could see every little detail about her. They all made her even more beautiful.

"Maybe we can get together." the boy suggested, turning back and giving a slight shrug. He leaned back against the lockers and plunged his shaking hands as deep as they could go into his pockets. "You know, to talk about bird. During lunch?"

Charlotte blushed, hugging her folder closer to herself. "I'd like that."

He had captured her, and she had captured him.

The boy grinned and started to back down the hallway towards his next class. Charlotte tucked a stray hair behind her ear and shut her locker, still blushing pink. Just as she was starting to turn away, the boy called something back to her.

"And by the way, my name is Tate!"

* * *

**All hail the sixth chapter of _Charlotte _being finished.**

**Definitely more back story to come!**

**So read and review, and PM if you have more feedback!**


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